


We Belong Together

by Exces_KaboomBOOM



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-canon It Chapter 2, therapy saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exces_KaboomBOOM/pseuds/Exces_KaboomBOOM
Summary: Eddie remembers It by himself, before even setting foot again in Derry. His first instinct is to bring back Richie into his life.Or: You're telling me health-obsessed Eddie Kaspbrak wouldn't have tried hypnosis therapy at least once?
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 156





	We Belong Together

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying so hard not to write anything about them men but I got weak...... Thank you Dani my love for the proofreading it's true love!

_Do you like me, or do you like-like me?_

His heart is going to jump out of his ribcage. He absently searches for something in his pocket — but he doesn’t know what it is; his phone? A tissue? Somehow his mind produces the foreign memory of a small inhaler, with a red cap, then a warm laugh echoes in his ears and the world feels surreal for a pregnant second — 

A voice brings him back into reality: 

“Eddie?”

He turns to _him._

“Richie.” Eddie’s voice comes out broken. He had meant to act polite and get on with their business, but one look into Richie’s worried eyes and he realizes there is no going back for them. Eddie shakes Richie’s hand but can’t let go of it. Richie doesn’t say a word, and takes a seat next to him.

The dinner around them is quiet, at four in the afternoon, the sun lazily stretching to the horizon in shades of blushing lovers and stolen looks. They were once in love, weren’t they?

“I never thought I’d ever see you again,” Richie says, his words ringing loudly in the silence they have fallen into. Eddie nods, and he feels it in his guts. They were _stolen_ from each other; they were never meant to forget about one another.

Pennywise had a trick to keep them under its thumb. By locking away their deepest fears, It became the master puppeteer of their traumas so It could play with them when It’d have the chance to once again. But It didn’t think any of the losers would have it in them to actually seek help in regards to their forgotten childhood, or the meaning behind their relentless nightmares of bloody children floating in deadly lights. 

Eddie has been in therapy, and that’s how he has unlocked everything about It and them. 

“How- How’ve you been doing?” Richie asks, and it’s clumsy, and very out-of character. Eddie wonders if he’s lost his sense of humor when growing old. 

“Let’s cut the crap, Trashmouth.” 

Richie is stunned, but an amused smile finds its way on his face. He _remembers_ that’s what they used to call him!

“Yes can do, Eduardo,” his voice is now grounded, “did you miss me?”

“Like all hell, motherfucker.” Eddie is smiling too, so wide it hurts his cheeks. They are still holding hands under the table. 

Therapy isn’t exactly what brought back every memory for Eddie; but he realized something was wrong, after several years of working on himself and his mental health. His then-therapist thought so too, and recommended trying hypnosis treatment as a final push towards clarity. _It’s not magic,_ the therapist had declared, _but it can be a first step in the dark of what your mind’s keeping locked away._

Eddie had his doubts at first, because his mother had always warned him of the dangers of _alternative_ medicine, and his then-fiancée Myra wasn’t a big fan of how much it’d cost them on the long-term. But he fought tooth and nail to get that for himself, and maybe that was the bravery of his younger self shining through. He was determined (almost desperate, at forty) to go all the way down to the end of the story. His _own_ story, the one he didn’t remember, full of horrors and missing pieces and feelings that belonged to a romantic movie about long-lost highschool sweethearts. 

The first hypnosis session didn’t go well; he took to hypnosis like a fish to water, and ended up breaking a glass table at the doctor’s office because he was certain a disembodied girl was trying to bite at his ankles. 

“Did you call the others?”

“No,” Eddie admits, his face burning with embarrassment. He barely thought about them. Once he had remembered who he was, and who he had missed, only one name played on repeat in his mind. He has been daydreaming about Richie for weeks now, either reliving tender moments of their lives together, or thinking about the what-if’s of their possible shared future. 

“I could try bullshiting you, but I simply didn’t give enough of a shit at the moment.”

“What does that mean?” Richie asks, his hand leaving Eddie’s to hug his own arms. He looks scared for a second, and Eddie wonders if it’s because his darkest memories are coming back to him, or if Eddie isn’t who he was expecting him to be. 

“It means… It means I missed you so much, Richie, and I can’t believe I almost married a woman twice my age in some nightmarish Oedipus complex trip just because a killer clown from my teens made me forget I was in fucking love with my best friend since we were thirteen, even though he always was a stupid motherfucker and the grossest kid around.” 

The second hypnosis session had been the key event — the vital flip of the switch. It was the moment when Eddie turned from off to _on;_ everything blew out of the gates, flooding his conscious mind with a small lifetime of pictures, from absolute terror to treasured glimpses of happiness. 

Eddie became himself all at once. The spell had been broken on the spot, just begging to be touched after so long, and every new second since then has been a new piece to the puzzle slowly recreating the whole picture of who Eddie Kaspbrak truly is.

He broke his engagement with Myra the same week. Loving her felt like trusting a stranger; now that the switch had been flipped back on, nothing of his adult life made sense, but everything made sense again — in the most nonsensical way. It took him almost a month to be able to look at himself in the mirror and not overreact at the fragility of his own face. He is still not used to the fire in his eyes, or the extreme anger and extreme joy roaming his guts all day long. 

He feels alive to the maximum, but still looks on the verge of breaking apart. Sometimes everything looks too bright. He has never been that anxious in his life, but he finally knows _why._

“Okay, no, I _did_ contact Mike, because I knew he was still in Derry and I had a hunch he’d know a thing or two about what was happening to me.”

“Hold the phone, Eddie, wait a second- What was that part about being in love with your mother?”

“Are you deaf or are you dumb, shitface? I’m in love with _you,_ you little turd, but I _almost_ married a woman who looked just like her.”

“I guess the mom jokes just went full cycle on you, uh?”

“Guess so,” Eddie laughs, but it’s not joyful. He misses Richie’s hand in his, they should be making up for lost time already. 

“Wait, so, just because you had a kickass healthcare plan and some feminine insight, you broke Pennywise’s fucking mindfuck? And now you’re coming onto me?”

“I guess so,” Eddie replies, and he doesn’t have any desire to hide any longer. Either Richie wants him, or they can stay platonic best friends with a sad side of longing. The only truly important thing is, in the end, for them to be reunited. To be the unit they’re meant to be. Eddie didn’t know what fulfillment was until he saw Richie again in a Netflix special last month; the same night, he’d booked a plane to LA and had been trying to get a hold of him since then. 

“I do remember the losers, your mom’s smelly slippers, the redneck bullies, the alien murderous clown and the billion dead kids, but I don’t have _any_ memory of you being into me, Eds. Like, at fuckall. You’re sure you didn’t make that up while tripping your balls off hypnosis?”

“It’s not for nothing you got the biggest glasses in the world, Rich, you've never seen worth shit.”

“Eh, fuck you!”

“Do it yourself, coward.”

Richie chokes on his laughter and blushes so hard he could pass out. Eddie laughs until he’s crying and doesn’t know which emotion is the strongest — delight at Richie’s expense, or despair at his lack of reciprocity. 

When he had called Mike, Eddie had expected him to be surprised or at least confused. But Mike, sweet and obscure Mike, had replied nothing else but, ‘well, if anyone had to break from It, it had to be you. Richie always said you were the strongest of us all.’.

And with the mind of an adult and twenty years of loneliness on his back, Eddie had looked back at their friendship and knew, with absolute certainty, that if Richie were to remember him, he would not let him go away again. For any fathomable reason, not even a new dancing killer clown or a shitty one-man show deal. 

When they finally had each other on the phone, Richie had only needed one minute to place Eddie. He immediately agreed to meet him, and has been slowly getting back his memories by texting Eddie about details he isn’t yet sure of or that he wants them to remember _together._

_'Was that you or me who broke Bill's bike in the summer of '84?'_ Richie would text Eddie at four in the morning. Instead of being pissed at the time, Eddie felt like a kid talking to his crush at a sleepover while everybody else was asleep — then he’d remember the multiple times he’d gone a full night without sleeping, Richie’s voice whispering the worst ideas into his ear, his heart beating too fast for a simple friend. Living without Richie was living without being loved.

_'Technically we both did,'_ Eddie would reply, fingers trembling on his phone’s keyboard, _‘by running into it when we raced to his place. I won, btw. Bill also thought it was my fault because he said I was like a wrecking ball when it came to beating you.'_

_'He was right lmao, you were so small and angry, like big chihuahua energy'_

_'Say that to my face, fucker, and I'll break your pinkie again'_

_'Like the time I called you a pocket-size mad max little bitch?'_

_'yes :)'_

_'I missed your cute banter, Eddie Spaghetti. Celebratory dick pic?'_ (Eddie never replied, but the thought of it kept him awake until dawn.)

"I thought you said no bullcrap," Richie whines, actually pouting. Eddie wonders if Richie's rejection comes from a place of fear or self-deprecation. Either way, Eddie doesn't have time for any of that shit. 

“Richie, I’ll say it once more, and again, and again until your small bird brain got it memorized, but I’m in _fucking_ love with you. Not as bros, not as childhood friends. Remembering who the fuck I was came with remembering that I would kill Pennywise a hundred more times just to keep on remembering you.”

Richie is tearing up, but he's trying his hardest to hide it for some reason. Eddie looks around, and catches a couple of waiters looking at them. Being looked at has always been Richie’s greatest fear; he couldn’t be himself under scrutiny, because vulnerability meant death in his survivor’s brain. He had survived by laughing at himself and hiding behind his jokes. He couldn’t declare what he felt in the center of a diner to god knows whose privy ears. 

“I’m parked only a couple of blocks away,” Eddie says, standing up without waiting for a reply. He realizes they haven’t ordered anything, and maybe that’s the only reason they got attention in the first place. He leaves a twenty on the table to look more generous than he actually feels like. 

The ring of the door’s bell snaps Richie out of it and he comes running after Eddie. He’s so clumsy, as if still not used (at forty and something) to living in his own skin. He has a handful of inches over Eddie, but he seems about ready to fold over himself at any given opportunity. 

“Eddie, I-”

“Beep beep, Rich. Let’s go to the car first. You can take me to dinner another time anyway.” 

The sunset’s color palette paints lovely tones allover Richie’s eyes. Eddie knows he loves him because everything he notices about him makes him feel incandescent. His messy hair curls over his forehead and at the nape of his neck; the sweat rolling in his eyes creates condensation at the edges of his glasses; his worn-out black leather jacket has a faded out “love is love” patch stitched over the inside pocket; his hands are constantly moving to grab, hold and tear.

“Do you feel like there are still things you don’t remember?” Eddie inquires, in hope to ease some of Richie’s tension. 

“A shit ton, yeah,” Richie admits, looking up at the sky, “but I got the most important parts figured out, I think.”

“You remember your parents? The losers club?”

“Not everything in full details, but I can at least make up their faces. I have stronger memories of Bill, Stan and you, though.”

“Hm,” Eddie acknowledges him, but he doesn’t really know what to say. 

“I, I want to see Stan again. I miss him so fucking much. I remember- I remember that time he helped me pass my final history test so I wouldn’t end up in summer school. We studied every evening for a full month. Oh, and...” Richie trails off.

Eddie unlocks his car, looks at Richie. “And what?” He misses Stan too, but he doesn’t like the possessiveness and jealousy linked to Richie and him. 

“You were _so_ pissed, dude. Like, you thought we were planning something _real_ bad. You gave Stan so much shit that he was pissed at _me_ because I hadn’t explained it to you enough that he wasn’t trying to take your place as my _numero uno_ bestie for life.”

“Uh, well… I guess now you know why.”

They’re both sitting in the car, windows up, the world finally out there and them, alone.

“I guess so, yeah.” Richie’s voice ends on such a soft tone that Eddie’s heart breaks a little at the sound. He doesn’t know what to expect for them now; what Richie will tell him, and what he will not. 

Eddie has fantasized so much about their reunion, sometimes imagining them bickering for hours until they’d both drunkenly confess their love to each other; sometimes he’d imagine them immediately falling into bed, desperately grabbing back what they were robbed off. But sometimes, oh sometimes Eddie thought it wouldn’t end well. Richie, being the stupid stubborn fuckhead that he is, would not believe him; he wouldn’t let down his facade, and they would get frustrated, then angry. Eddie wants to have faith, and he doesn’t want to ever be away from Richie. 

But if Richie truly doesn’t want him back, what else is he supposed to do? 

“You grew up so fucking handsome, dude, that’s so unfair.” Richie snickers. “What the fuck happened to me?”

“You look gorgeous, motherfucker, don’t play modest.”

“You just say that ‘cause you got it hot for me.”

“Maybe so,” Eddie agrees, “but you can’t pretend like it’s a joke anymore. The flirting, the double, fuck, _triple_ meaning of everything we ever said to each other.”

“You really think you love me?”

“Oh, my god, you fucking prick, I’m going to-”

“Eds, it’s just, I do, I do too, I-”

Richie is at his limit. Eddie has seen it coming a mile away, but his soul splits in two at the sight of Richie crying with no more holding back. Richie cried so rarely as a child that the few times he did, it was always a devastating moment to witness. His shoulders are around his ears and he’s pushing his face against his hands, fighting to hide himself. Eddie doesn’t want to be cut off, he wants to be there for him. 

He tries to hold Richie as best as he can. He links their arms and pushes his hands into Richie’s hair, trying to soothe him, letting him feel his presence. Richie tries to speak but no words come out with meaning. He looks so young, barely a teen, crushed by a reality far more cruel than he had thought it was for decades. 

“It’s a lot to take in, and I know, ‘that’s what she said’, but it gets better okay? The nightmares don’t really go away, but at least now you’ll know where they are coming from. And you’ll remember that you weren’t alone after all. You’ll remember the strength of the other losers, and the love we all had for each other, and Stan’s support, and Bill’s stuttering, and-”

“I want to remember _you,_ ” Richie says. His voice is drowned in snot and tears, and he tries to smile. Eddie rummages through his pockets to find him some tissue. 

“I’m here, you got time for that now.”

“But what if I forgot again?” Richie asks. He blows his nose twice, but he is still crying and his face remains a complete mess. Eddie pushes away any germs related thoughts and places his fingers against his cheeks, brushing tears away from his eyes. Richie takes off his glasses. 

“I don’t want to forget again.”

“You won’t. I’m here, and together we can figure something out. Mike told me, he told me it was how Derry worked on people. The longer you’re away, the more you forget. But I think that’s another of Pennywise’s shitty easter eggs, because the more we’re unaware of what we went through,” Eddie put his head against Richie’s chest, listening to the chaotic beating underneath, “the more we forgot what we feared, and the less we’re prepared to fuck his shit up again.”

_“Again?”_ Richie’s hands are back in Eddie’s, and the world feels alright at least. 

“Mike told me people started disappearing again. That’s why he stayed. He said he knew It’d be back.”

“How the fuck did he know that?”

Eddie laughs maybe his first true laugh since years. Richie shyly chuckles. 

“I don’t know, man. Maybe he went batshit crazy after all these years in Derry and he’s making things up, but there’s still something that’s got a hold on us. Either it’s that clown bitch rising up from the dead, or there’s another one in the making.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, it’s not ideal. But if we all get together beforehand? I feel like we could make it out alive, and actually succeed in ending It for good this time. We’re fucking adults, we can buy guns if needed!”

“My hero,” Richie coos, “you’d shoot a sewer shit clown for me?”

“For you?” Eddie looks up at Richie, all glorious smile and confidence, “For you I’d do that and more.”

“You do love me, uh?”

“I do.”

Richie tries so hard not to cry again. Eddie sees him trying and failing, and it’s fine. They are still in need of time to heal and to grow back into themselves. It’s all so new and bizarre. But the feeling of _belonging_ makes it all worth it, a thousand times around. 

“Eddie I, I do. _Eddie, my love, I love you so, oh oh-_ ” Richie sings terribly, trying to make a joke out of the moment, but the feelings catch up on his bullshit and he’s crying again. Eddie laughs because he’s relieved, because he’s looking at the real Richie — the one of his childhood, of his dreams, the only one true to his heart. 

“You’re such a dickhead, Rich. Kiss me?”

And maybe, for once, Richie forgets to be scared of being himself in the open; maybe he remembers how much he’s defined by his love for Eddie fuckingly amazing Kaspbrak. Maybe, in the end, he kisses Eddie because he forgot to do it while they had the time, twenty years ago. 

_It’s never too late,_ he tells himself. _I’ll never forget him again._ And truth be told? He never will, until death do them apart.


End file.
